


to spain, with love

by alesford



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesford/pseuds/alesford
Summary: no more revenants. no more clootie. no more curse.all the demons that escaped from sanctuary received their one-way ticket back to hell, courtesy of peacemaker and wynonna.they’ve won.ORnicole and waverly take a much needed vacation to spain. inspired bythis.





	to spain, with love

**to spain, with love**

 

no more revenants. no more clootie. no more curse.

all the demons that escaped from sanctuary received their one-way ticket back to hell, courtesy of peacemaker and wynonna.

they’ve _won_.

when wynonna pulls that trigger for the last time, a weight is lifted off all of their chests and finally, _finally_ they can breathe. really breathe.

because good conquers evil in the end, and it isn’t always about being the most pure of heart and mind but being committed to the right thing and persevering even when everything seems impossible. it’s about fighting the good fight, even with your flaws glaring and your vulnerabilities exposed.

it’s about having the right things to keep you going. friendships, family, love.

love.

none of them would be here without it; none of this victory would be worth anything without it.

waverly looks at nicole, drawn to her like a moth to a flame or icarus to the sun — and she burns. she burns hot and bright and it isn’t destruction but creation. and when she falls deep, deep, deep into the ocean’s depths, it’s baptism. because nicole isn’t the flame or the sun but the ocean, there to catch her and to show her a world she’s never seen.

and so they go.

they leave purgatory behind them, an itinerary of their travels in the hands of both wynonna and dolls because waverly is a planner and nicole loves waverly. they fly from calgary to frankfurt to barcelona.

they walk las ramblas, hand in hand, step into la boqueria, and look on in wonder at the array of vendors. the fish market alone is a sight to behold. so many sights and sounds and things to try. waverly purchases a halved dragonfruit with fuschia colored flesh and a plastic spoon taped to the side. nicole buys a bag of pick and mix sweets with marzipan shaped like fruits and vegetables and little fruit pastilles of green and purple and orange hues.

at la plaça de catalunya, they watch children chase pigeons and a man weave bubbles into the air that are as big as a person. there’s a vendor that sells balloons and people mingling in the space. it feels alive.

they take the metro to la sagrada familia and stare in awe at the earth motifs that gaudi loved so much. inside they stare reverently at the stained glass windows, and nicole swears the light shining through them is one of the most beautiful sights that she’s ever seen.

(she looks to waverly at her side, hazel eyes catching the light in a way that takes her breath away. and she knows that this is the most beautiful sight she has ever and will ever see. waverly earp, at her side and such a vision.)  
 

they climb one of the spires, up, up, up through twisting, narrow staircases until they emerge back into the bright light of day to a view of the city that causes nicole to quip, ‘definitely not in purgatory anymore.’ and waverly smiles at her, squeezes her hand, and they stand and stare out over the buildings for a moment longer before shuffling back down another set of stairs.

(down, down, down like icarus to the sea. a world of adventure awaits.)

they stay up late and watch the lights and waters of la font màgica de montjuïc, walking with the crowds as they disperse until they find themselves back at las ramblas and down a peculiar alleyway and into a bar called el bosc de les fades.

‘the forest of the faeries,’ waverly says with a grin. and it’s kitschy but wonderful and they drink sangria and eat tapas until after midnight before stepping back out into the night, no longer afraid of curses or demons or other things that go bump in the night.

they wake up before dawn and take the train to girona and a bus to palamós on the coast. they know they don’t have the time or money to hike the entirety of camino de ronda of la costa brava but they narrowed down what they most wanted to see.

so they start in palamós and hike the eleven kilometers to calella de palafrugell. it takes them longer than the estimated five hours because they stop frequently to look out over the crystalline waters and just _breathe_. to be in the moment with the one you love. and they pass through smaller fishing villages and sandy beaches and waverly takes in everything with awe and nicole takes in waverly with absolute adoration in her eyes.

they walk and hike and walk some more. the hills grow steeper and there is a crumbling staircase to traverse, but all the while, they’re there together. waverly’s hand on nicole’s back or nicole’s hand on waverly’s, a steadying and comforting anchor. they do this together.

and hand in hand they reach calella de palafrugell and their airbnb that has a window that overlooks el mar balear. they’re breathless and sweaty but the world is beautiful and the curse is broken and both of them feel lighter than they’ve felt in years.

in the evening, once they’re clean and rejuvenated, nicole leads waverly into town. they walk along well-traveled roads, passing by other tourists and locals alike until they reach a secluded corner that is quiet and intimate. they stop in front of an unassuming door with a sign that reads, ‘abierto’.

‘where are we, nicole?’ waverly asks. ‘i thought we were going to dinner?’

and nicole just smiles and opens the door and the smells that waft through the entryway make both their mouths salivate. the scent of the sea, slightly briny and crisp, and roasting vegetables and fresh bread lingers in the air. a young woman greets them as they step inside.

‘welcome,’ she says in accented english.  
  


(because waverly speaks six languages but catalan is not one of them, and her spanish is rustier than it should be even if it’s gotten them this far.)  
 

she ushers them past one other couple and to a table near a window that doesn’t have much of a view, but the sounds of the town surrounding them reach their ears like the gentle seaside breeze. there are no menus, and the woman brings them water and a bottle of rioja with two glasses.

‘gracias,’ nicole says with a smile. and when the woman leaves again, she explains, ‘when you asked me to make dinner reservations for our first night here, i found this place on an old travel forum. you have to order everything in advance because they have to go to the market to get what they need.’ she frowns as she thinks for a moment, reaching for waverly’s hand that rests on the tabletop. ‘i hope you don’t mind? if ít’s too presumptuous, we can go somewhere else.’

waverly shakes her head and positively beams at nicole. she squeezes nicole’s hand and reassures her, ‘no, no. this is amazing, nicole. you’re amazing. and it smells fantastic. what did you order us?’

the pride of surprising and exciting waverly shows clearly on her face, and she launches into an explanation of doing her research on catalonian cuisine. they'll start with escalivada and then there's suquet de peix and pa amb tomàquet. and for desert there's crema catalana.

‘it’s probably too much food but everything sounded so good, waves, and i want tonight to be special.’

nicole dips her head in one of those rare instances that she isn’t quite sure of herself. but waverly reaches across the table with her free hand and lifts nicole’s chin gently with her index finger. ‘baby, every moment that i get to spend with you is special. this trip has been a dream come true, you know? it’s... you’re my everything, nicole haught. that’s what makes tonight special.’

wynonna’s crack that they make ‘the notebook’ look bleak is probably more true now than ever. because they look into each other’s eyes and there’s so much love and kindness and everything that’s moves artists and poets and musicians to create works dedicated to trying to capture this _feeling_. this intangible, indescribable, wonderful feeling.

it definitely doesn’t hurt that the food is as delicious as it smells.

it’s when they’re scooping the last of the crema catalana from the bowl they’re sharing that waverly notices the growing anxiousness in her partner’s posture.

‘nicole, is something wrong?’

but nicole is shuffling out of her seat and then she’s on one knee in front of waverly and there’s a ring in her hand.

an ‘oh my god’ escapes her lips and she brings a hand to cover her mouth, tears already glistening in her eyes as she looks at the woman before her that she loves with all she has.

‘waves. we have been through so much together. i knew the moment i saw you, before that day in shorty’s, that you were extraordinary. your kindness, your generosity — you give so much to the world and to me. we’ve fought back hell and given hell, and we’ve done it side by side. i’d do anything for you, go anywhere with you. we’re partners in all of this, and i know that wherever we go, i’ll be home. because you’re my world, waverly. you’re my home. where you go, i go.’

nicole pauses, slows down, breathes. her eyes never leave waverly’s.

‘i wasn’t planning on doing this until tomorrow, after we go snorkeling at el golfet, but just… i don’t know if i can wait another day to ask you. i love you with all of my heart, and i’d like to ask you if you’d do me the honor of being my wife. waverly earp, will you marry me?’

of course she says yes.  
  


(what sort of fairytale romance would this be otherwise?)

  
of course she says yes because waverly loves nicole and nicole loves waverly. where one goes, so too does the other.

‘god, i love you, nicole haught,’ waverly breathes into the ear of her _fiance_ , wrapped tightly in the best embrace she’s ever experienced. because it always means something more to be held in the arms of somebody you love, of somebody who loves you just as fiercely. ‘i’m glad you didn’t wait another day.’

nicole laughs and there are tears in both of their eyes. happy tears like the ones they’ll shed when they return to purgatory and finally get to meet alice michelle holliday or when they buy a house or when nicole becomes sheriff or when any of the many, many incredible things that await them come to fruition.

happy tears like the ones they’ll share when they’ve walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes.

because the world is safe from wyatt’s seventy-seven outlaws. because the demons of sanctuary have been vanquished again. because there’s a little girl out there that will never have to know the burden of a once cursed name like earp.

because heroes always win and good conquers evil.

because they’ve won and they’re here and they’re alive.

because the good ones always get their girl.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fluff was inspired by [**this answer**](https://twitter.com/heathermgirls/status/1010500537345888256) about the kind of date Waverly and Nicole might go on that was asked at Love Fan Fest in Barcelona.
> 
> Many of their experiences in Barcelona are ones that I've drawn from my own few days spent there several years ago. I have not, however, hiked the Camino de Ronda and I'm not particularly familiar with the towns or Costa Brava writ large. I apologize if there are any inaccuracies (and I'm sure there are some). Any and all mistakes are mine.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
